In June of 2021, I was lining up for my first ever gravel event: the Unbound 50. I was with one teammate and had no idea what I was in for: the heat, the hills, the new connections, the Wahoo that overheated and shut off 15 miles in*, the group of riders who cheered for me when I rode all the way to the top of a tough hill, the Emporia residents who sat on their lawns and cheered as I re-entered town, the finish line, and the coldest bottle of water I’ve ever enjoyed. I’d never experienced anything like it and I was hooked.
*don’t worry, Wahoo warranty replaced it super duper fast and I still love them.
2021 was a year of many new experiences for me as a founding member of Stamina: structured training, racing, team building, traveling with my bike. While so many moments of it were really incredible, something was wrong and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
Photo credit: Snowy Mountain Photography
In December of 2020, I started structured bike training for the first time. It was kind of miserable, if I’m being totally honest. I didn’t get it, I was bored, tech issues plagued my early workouts, and it took months to figure out all of the acronyms involved. I had come onto the team as a commuter and bike lover. Wasn’t that enough to make me fast and strong in races? (Spoiler alert: the answer is “no.”) It took me months and A LOT of encouragement to push through the challenges associated with indoor training and get into the swing of things, but I got there. Eh, mostly…
I spent nearly every single day of 2021 exhausted. Like painfully tired to my core. I had trouble prying myself out of bed after 12+ hours of sleep. I struggled to make it through the day without a power nap. I was tired before I got on the trainer, and I felt practically dead afterwards. I loved biking but was really not having a good time.
- Maybe I’m not cut out for structured training or racing?
- What if I’m a better teammate at everything off-the-bike?
- Am I letting down my team? My coach??
- Maybe I’m actually lazy?
I knew I wasn’t depressed. Depression can include things like fatigue and loss of interest, but this wasn’t depression. So I kept pushing in hopes that it would just go away. Travel races completely exhausted me, local races left me physically and emotionally drained for days, and when the weather turned chilly again, it was harder than ever to drag myself to the basement. Then my hair started falling out. Uhm, ALARMING!! Now, multiple symptoms felt like a big deal and I realized it was time to call in the professionals.
I’m lucky enough to have a great primary care doctor. She’s a good listener, a little direct, and has a pin on her white coat of a dumpster fire with the words, “this is fine.” My kind of gal. Blood tests quickly showed that my thyroid numbers were over FOUR TIMES what they should have been, indicating that my body was working insanely hard and unsuccessfully to make thyroid hormones, AKA: hypothyroidism.
My doctor explained that it was like cranking the thermostat up in winter time, but all of the windows and doors were open. Pretty quickly, the house was cold and the energy bill was high, except the house is my body in this scenario. That metaphor completely resonated with me. She mentioned that because my numbers were so high, I had probably been feeling the physical impacts for about two years. While it felt like there were still a lot of unknowns, it was so incredibly validating. The next few days were filled with feelings of frustration, validation, and mostly huge relief. I kept wondering, “what will I feel like on the bike when my numbers are normal?”
The sad news is that medication didn’t immediately add loads of watts and increase my lung capacity, but it did mean that I was able to hop out of bed and get on that trainer every damn morning for winter training. I had entered the world of healthy-person energy and it felt AMAZING. After many indoor miles on the trainer, I was excited, hopeful, and really nervous for what my season would look and feel like.
Would I still feel exhausted for days on end after races? Would I be able to see the difference after a full winter of training? What am I capable of when I’m healthy enough to put in the work?
I was carrying these questions and so many more into my second year at Unbound, this time with more teammates. My medication wasn’t quite right yet (it takes a long time to dial this in), and my numbers were still way too high. But I had the physical and mental space to experience the full energy of the event, to attend shake out rides, to visit every vendor booth, and then ride my freaking heart out on race day.
And what a day it was. The rain! The mud! The feeling of “I can hardly see, but we’re gonna keep pedaling, damnit!” I crossed the finish line of the 50 mile race more than an hour faster than the year before* and I felt like a million bucks, despite a very wet, very muddy ride. I was already thinking about going back for the 100 in 2023.
*MANY things impact race time: route, temperature, weather conditions, where I lined up, etc. But I’m gonna celebrate this time difference all the same.
Holy shit, chronic health conditions are a journey.
I’m privileged enough to have access to healthcare, as well as a supportive team, and a really loving partner. I don’t know how I would have gotten through the last year without any of those people. I’m nervous and excited to see how I feel at future races. Whatever journey you’re on, for your physical or mental health, I hope we see each other in the Flint Hills.
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Huge thanks to Kristi Mohn. The world’s premier gravel event is built on her love and determination. I’m grateful to her and the Lifetime team for supporting Stamina at this event.
Shoutout to my brilliant teammate, Dr. Erin Ayala for her friendship and generosity in two seasons of racing. Please check out her research on Athletic Identity and Chronic Health Concerns.
Tons of gratitude to Coach Corey for the tremendous amount of patience she showed, even when I hated training, as well as her kindness and flexibility on the journey.